


Sugarbabe seeks SugarDaddy

by LilKjay (orphan_account)



Category: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting - Fandom, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Suri will get aaaaall of them, Blowjobs, Crushes, Dominance, Escort Service, F/M, Feels, Hail to the Templar Order, I just love these guys, I will let them bang everywhere, Jealousy, Multi, NSFW, Oh My God, Quickies, Rough Sex, Sex for Money, Slow Sex, Smut, SugarDaddy!Alistair, SugarDaddy!Carver, SugarDaddy!Cullen, SugarDaddy!Delrin, SugarDaddy!Samson, SugarDaddy!Sebastian, Vaginal Sex, Will add tags as I go, analsex, and his delicious members, because why not, hehe I wrote members, i am so not sorry, potential threesome, sex in public, this will be glorious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LilKjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever heard of the concept SugarDaddy & SugarBabe? No?<br/>Suri didn't either. But thanks to her resourceful friend Sera she soon is caught up in this world full of luxury and a lifestyle she only knows from movies.<br/>On her way she encounters several men who will influence her future in more ways than she ever dared to dream of, and at least one man who will change her future forever. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> UPDATING STOPPED, WILL BE CONTINUED AT AN LATER DATE </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Idea

**Author's Note:**

> I am not exactly sure what I am doing, but I liked the idea and decided to give it a try. Tissues are on the table to your right, cold showers down the hall. Now please take a seat and hold my hand. I need it. :D

 

 

 

‘I don’t feel comfortable with this…’ My voice is muffled through the downpour, but the complaint falls on deaf ears either way. Sera cackles and  I am sure she rolls her eyes, while clicking happily through the several options represented on the screen. I throw her a glare and pull the shower curtain closed again, sighing in frustration. Yeah, we are low on money - again - because Sera lost her job - again. But why do I have to be the one who pays the price?!

 

‘Sera, really-’

‘Oh stop whining. It’s the perfect solution for all our problems! So come on, don’t be a spoilsport. Bra size?’

‘WHAT?!’ The curtain gets pulled back so abruptly that I nearly slip, staring in utter horror into the innocent face of Sera. She tilts her head to the side and then both our eyes drop down to my chest. Mine in shame, hers in calculating measurement.

‘I would say a small A-cup. What a shame. Big breasts mean more money’ She mumbles and again types something on the screen. I blush furiously at her words, wrapping the shower curtain around my small frame in an attempt to cover myself.

‘Sera!’ I exclaim once again pitifully but she just waves her hand absently, before propping her chin up once more. The tip of her tongue peeks out as she scrolls through the several options and questions. I sigh and lean closer as well, hair plastered to my head and body.

 

The perfect solution for our financial problems, or so my best friend had called it. What it was? Entering my profile in a database for an well known escort service, called “Sugardaddy & Sugarbabe”. I still can’t believe that she talked me into this and am sure my head is going to explode in shame soon. It certainly feels this way when I catch a glimpse of the questions Sera had already answered for me.

 

‘I will not do THIS!’ Frustrated I point to one of the markers she set for “sexual preferences”, then add,  
‘I don’t even know what this is!’ Sera’s head rucks up at that and she sports a shit eating grin, before sitting more comfortable. As comfortable as one can be in a cross-legged position on the toilet at last.

‘Oooh, precious innocent Suri!’ She croons and pats my cheek, cackling as I pull back with a blush.

‘That one is something many men like very much...‘ she emphasizes her words with a rude gesture.

‘Instead of coming inside you they pull out and shoot their sticky cum all over your face. Cum-shot. Get it?’ I go pale in an instant and close the shower curtain once more, desperately turning the water. I feel the need to wash myself again only for thinking of this. Ugh.

‘I will not do this!’ I shout in frustration, only earning another fit of cackles.

‘I could get something in my eyes!’ I try to appeal to her sense of health but Sera only laughs harder, slapping my ass through the sheer curtain.

 

‘When you’re done showering dress in what I set aside for you so we can make a few pictures okay? And don’t dawdle!’ With that Sera leaves me alone. I groan and my head hits the ugly green linoleum tiles of the shower softly, the slowly cooling water reminding me that I don’t have much time left. Yes, it sucks to have no money at the end of the month. And it sucks even more to live from packet soup from the 15th on. But still... Me, an escort girl?

I sigh and turn off the water, then climb out of the shower. Water pearls down my body and I pick up the towel, wrapping it around my body. With a sigh I lean forward, wiping away the fog from the cracked mirror of our small apartment. The eight-teen year old student looking back at me seems just as troubled as I feel and with another deep sigh I grab the comb and start brushing my long white blonde hair. It reaches till my waist and starts to dry already, soft curls forming where the water before forced tresses to be straight. Blue eyes and an ivory complexion complete the image of an angel, one of the reasons why Sera suggested that I should play the escort girl.

 

That - and her clear disdain for cocks. Although she never had admitted it clearly till now, we both know that she tends to like women more. I am okay with that, because it saves me from sleepless nights where she has male company. Not that her female company is anymore silent - but at least they make nice breakfast the next morning. With a sigh I drop the towel and after a glance at what exactly Sera laid out for me I groan.

‘Sera! You owe me for this!’ I threaten and slip into the very transparent and revealing black negligee. Then I run one hand through my hair before leaving the bathroom with a defeated sigh. To be honest… her idea isn’t that bad at all.

 

We clearly need the money and I am not opposed to sex with a stranger. Like Sera I had my fair share of one night stands and affairs. But the fact that a man pays to spend the evening and sleep with me… it sounds a little bit too close like being a prostitute.

‘Don’t look so grumpy. You look awesome!’ Sera exclaims cheerfully from the couch and rises, digital cam already in her hand.

‘This is going to be fun! We will make a few nice pictures of you and then choose from the hundreds of horny males which one will pay our rent in the future! This plan is foolproof!’ Her words are accompanied by a slap on my bare ass and she cackles as I yelp in surprise.

 

‘Sera……’ my long drawn complain is again falling on deaf ears as she kisses my cheek, then pushes me down on the bed. The old mattress creaks in protest and we both grimace, but then Sera gestures me to scoot further up the bed.

‘Lay on your side. And ehm maybe... Put your hand on that lemonade stain. It won’t look good and will ruin all your sexiness.’ she chirps and I do as I am told, surrendering to my fate. I am curious what kind of men book a escort girl for the night. From what Sera told me they’re all wealthy and handsome. So why don't they have a girlfriend?

 

I turn on my left side and adjust arms and legs to my best friend’s liking, while she dims the light a bit, flitters around me and makes pictures. I am proud of my body, even though I don’t have Sera’s glorious curves. In comparison to her I am slender and dainty. But she assured me that a lot of men would like this. Or at least don’t care enough, eager to stick their prick somewhere.

 

When she is done with taking pictures she flops down next to me on the bed and we choose together three pictures we both find acceptable. I am a little bit concerned that my face isn’t hidden but Sera pats my arm, reassuring that potential relatives would be too ashamed themselves to mention that they have seen my profile on this homepage.

 

In anxiety I watch how she uploads the three pictures and together we go over each detail of the profile once more. After all I have to go with the things she selected. And I have to admit… Sera knows what she is doing. The profile text sounds flirty but still innocent, and the marked options in the several chards are nothing I am uncomfortable with. And considering that this so called cum-shot would cost extra money, I left the marker there too. If a man would book me for a full night with a small collection of extra’s like this, I could make up to 250 dollar in one night. It’s already a fourth of our monthly rent for the apartment. Insane that some men really pay for such things.

 

At last Sera hands me a simple prepaid phone, explaining that it is linked to the homepage and potential Interessants would send a message to this number.  

‘Maybe It’s best if you scroll through the homepage a bit. I don’t know… click on some profiles of these SugarDaddy’s. Make them aware of you’ She suggests and I hum in agreement, bidding her a goodnight. SugarDaddy… that’s how these men are called on the homepage. Of course, each one has an separate nickname, but this is still what they would be. A SugarDaddy, willing to pay real money to spend time with a girl called SugarBabe. The counterpart. A SugarBabe like me. The thought fills me with giddiness and excitement and I scroll through the homepage with budding interest.

 

Kept in black and silver, the homepage certainly looks reliable and my internal fear that only jerks would contact me diminishes a little bit. Each counterpart is encouraged to send a picture of him or herself while holding a note with the nickname on it, to condemn that they’re not a fake. For SugarDaddy’s there is also the option to prove wealthiness by sending a screenshot of their bank account, something I find a tad too personal. But apparently it helps to get more clicks. There were also several options you could choose, like listing SugarDaddy’s after age, wealth or nationality. The chat function was disabled for me, only a SugarDaddy could enable a chat - by paying real money. The typed in text would be send straight to my phone where I could answer it. All money for the conversation would be paid by him. A interesting concept which guaranteed the operators of this side a nice additional income.

 

I wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of the other SugarBabe’s, but to be honest I wasn’t interested in them anyway. As a SugarBabe you had two options to gain the interest of a SugarDaddy, or short Daddy: By sending him a virtual kiss by clicking on the lips symbol on his profile or by asking a simple question by clicking on the query next to the lips symbol. It sounded all rather easy and I gnawed on my bottom lip in deep thought while scrolling through the several SugarDaddy profiles. All ages were represented, as well as the usual professions one would expect from a wealthy man. Doctors, politicians, bankers, businessmen, managers.

  
Not all of them had a picture in their profile, but I could understand this decision. Surely they had the same doubts like me, but in contrary no Sera who persuaded them. Testing my luck I send a few kisses out towards SugarDaddy’s, then turned off the tablet and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be an exhausting day at the university and no matter how worrisome our financial situation was, I needed my sleep.

 

 

 


	2. Messages

 

 

 

The alarm goes off the second time and I grumble sleepily, fumbling for the button to turn the annoying beep beep off. It is still dark outside which does not help my mood at all, nor the fact that I can hear Sera’s loud snore. It is unfair that she can sleep till noon - but on the other side I was the one who decided to study medieval history. With a sleepy moan I roll over to the edge of the mattress, stretching my limbs and try to convince myself to get up. Our coffee machine broke two weeks ago as did the freezer, which means neither milk nor a hot coffee for poor me. Slowly I drag myself into an upright position, scratching my head as I finally force my eyes to stay open for more than a second. A strange pattern adorns my skin and I frown before realizing that I am still wearing that negligee. Well, at least it was comfy enough to sleep in it. 

 

The first steps are uncoordinated and I curse as my big toe hits the rather hard edge of the old desk in my room. But the pain has his merits. At least I am now fully awake and more aware of what I want to wear today. Although the choice is simple, not many clean clothes left in the chaos I call my room. Pink lips pulled in a thoughtful pout I decide in the end for black jogging pants and a dark blue sleeveless top. Slipping into my sneakers and tucking the laces simply inside the shoe as well, afterwards grabbing mobile phones and shoving them in my pockets. Pulling the old worn fleece jacket on and slinging the leather bag with my scripts inside over my shoulder, I leave my room. A short stop in the bathroom to brush teeth and wash my face, then I knock three times on Sera’s door as I saunter through the dark hallway. Because of course, the lamp there is broken too.

‘Remember to write some applications, Sera!’ I yell and her only reaction is a outstretched middlefinger in the darkness. Shaking my head I leave our flat, closing the door with a little more force than necessary. For one the lock isn’t working correctly anymore, and second I want to disturb my best friend’s sleep at least a little bit more. Pitty revenge - but it helps to lighten my mood. 

 

The flight of stairs through the apartment complex I take in record time, nearly bumping into one of the many nameless neighbors.    
‘Sorry and good morning!’ I chirp and rush outside, making my way to the tram station down the street. At this time of the day only a few people are up and so no one spares me a second glance as I stop at the train station, already hopping from one feet to the other. Even with a fleece jacket it is still chilly outside and I am glad that for once the tram is on time. 

Stale warm air greets me but I revel in it, letting myself fall into one of the empty seats to stare out of the window. This is my life. Every morning driving two hours to university because the rent of our apartment is cheap. Other students are still sleeping and this fact makes me sigh in frustration. Oh how I would love to sleep in as well. Or being brought in a chic limousine to the campus. But all I have is a dirty tram and two hours of boredom till I can start the important part of my day. 

 

Pulling both knees up to my chest and propping them up against the back of the seat in front of me, I pull out my mobile  and earphones to listen to music. But one look at the low battery and I push away that plan, sliding the phone back into my pants. Slender fingers graze the surface of the other mobile Sera gave me yesterday, and sudden excitement coils in my belly. Maybe someone already has taken interest in my profile? This would be to good to be true. 

As I unlock the screen I nearly drop the phone at the sheer number of chat invitations and kisses addressed at me. A smile appears on my lips and I scroll through the several names of SugarDaddy’s. Too bad I forgot my tablet at home, now I can't look at their profiles. But well. All in all I got eight kisses, and six invitations for a chat. Some of the names sound rather funny as I read them, trying to decide which one to write back first.

 

 

**[02:38]Cheeselover:** _Nice profile! Sending you a kiss! Chat with me? :)_

This one sounds sweet and I click on the “approve button”, only to realize that the chat would be enabled as soon as I type a response. How practical!

**[06:02]Angel_eyes:** _Good Morning cheeselover! What is the flavour of your cheese-kisses? ;)_

I giggle and send the message, before turning to the next one. 

 

 

**[02:55]RedLyriumKnight:** _Hottie! Interested in a hot date? ;)_

My eyebrows rise and I hum thoughtfully, deciding against and immediate response. After all his message was very clear and I want to be sure who he was before texting back.

 

 

**[03:02]ChocolateDaddy:** _Wow you’re pretty. I love your eyes and smile. Can’t wait to hear from you! <3_

This one made me smile and the added heart at the end of the message was cute. 

**[06:05]Angel_eyes:** _Why thank you for the compliment Chocolate daddy! <3_

Giggling I send the message, then click on the next one.

 

 

**[03:45]PrinceofyourHeart:** _Are you the princess I was searching for my whole life? Message me!_

Another sweet one and I settle into a more relaxed position, thinking for a moment for a good reply.

**[06:08] Angel_eyes:** _It depends. Are you a true prince or a frog I wonder?_

Wow, I think I am getting really good at this. Up to the next message!

 

 

**[03:56]Chantrymonk67:** _Hey! Interested in a night with an old man? I am maybe older than the most, but also the one with the most experience!_

‘Ewwwwww!’ I squeak in disgust and quickly close this chat, shuddering at the prospect of having sex with an old man. No. I rather eat packet soup than doing this! With a shake of my head I turn to the last message in the list.

 

 

**[05:52]CommanderDad:** _Saturday 8pm. Plazza Hotel. Booking 1, 2, 4, 5 and 12._

I suck in a breath and blink in confusion, rereading this message twice. Wow. This one is forward. And he wants a date in four days... Sadly I can’t remember the codes of all numbers in the chard. But it can't be anything bad, right? Licking my lips I glance down at the message, trying decide. I know the plazza hotel, it’s one of the finest hotel’s in Denerim. If this Commander is able to afford inviting me there, he truly has money. Breathing deeply I type in a reply, nodding to myself before sending it.

**[06:22]Angel_Eyes:** _Okay. I will be there._

As soon as the message is send a blue marker appears next to it, showing that the message was read. My heart thumps loudly in my chest as I see three dots appear next to his nickname, and seconds later my phone vibrates as he answers. 

**[06:23]CommanderDad:** _Good. Wear a red dress and your hair down._

I swallow hard and glance out of the window, gathering my courage. 

**[06:23]Angel_Eyes:** _I will. But how will I recognize you? The plazza hotel is large._

Anew the blue marker appears directly after I have send the message and the three dots dance as this mysterious man writes his reply. When my phone vibrates and I read his message, I nearly drop my phone.

**[06:24]CommanderDad:** _I will find you._

 

 


	3. Preparations

 

 

Wrapped in a towel I study myself in the mirror, pulling a face before glancing to the clock. I don’t know how he did it, but with his funny comments that Sugardaddy who called himself ‘Cheeselover’ persuaded me to meet him at the same evening. And from the tone in his short messages he seemed just as nervous as me. For a man in his early thirties he was using a lot of emoticons. I sigh and drop the towel finally, sifting through my clothes for an appropriate choice of attire.

 

Our meeting would take place in the lobby of a big and very expensive hotel, which belonged to a whole chain of Hotels under the Theirin management. Theirin. The name stood for vigilance and luxury, several members of this family had been president of our country Just like our current one, Maric Theirin. To be honest I didn’t like him much, especially because his health system sucked greatly. And despite his promises, life for students like me hadn’t become easier. In my opinion he only cared for the rich people in the upper class. And so the first supposed meeting felt a little bit tainted. The thought that my sugar daddy would give the president money just so he could meet me in one of his hotels… it felt like betraying my whole generation.

 

But Cheeselover just had a way to persuade me and in the end I agreed to meet him there. Now my only problem left was the choice of attire. According to my profile on the homepage, I love dresses and fine lingerie. Well yes it was the true - only I didn’t had either of it in my possession. Save for the negligee Sera found Maker knows where. Contemplating my eyes trail over several pieces of clothing, splayed out on the bed.

Another glance to the clock and I grimace. I need to hurry if I want to make it in time. The meeting was set up at 8pm and it was already past 6. With the fact that I have to use the tram It would take me nearly one and a half hour to get to the hotel. Sighing in defeat my choice finally fell on an old black tunic made of linen. It was just long enough so it reached mid thigh, and hugged my dainty figure. And if you squinted just a little bit, it almost looked like a dress with the silvery embroidery at the hem and seams. Taking Sera’s advice to heart I slip the tunic on directly, not caring for underwear.  
  
Cheeselover hadn’t stated clearly what kind of numbers he wanted from the chart, but promised me 200$ only for number one, which meant “Spending the evening together”. Any other service utilized later on would be paid extra. Since it was already well past the 15th and with that almost a week living to packet soup, these 200$ were enough to convince me. All the things I could buy from the money! Yes, a small collection of clothes and lingerie for future dates. But also food and maybe some real vegetables or something else than stupid water. It sounded heavenly and my stomach growls at the prospect.

 

Last came ankle boots in the same black shade than my tunic dress, showing off the small anklet I was wearing on my left foot. Silver and delicate, it blinked in the flickering yellow light of the lightbulb. Checking my appearance in the mirror one last time I nod to myself and breathe deeply. Let’s do this. Spend the night with a complete stranger, kiss and sleep with-

‘Oh wow you look gorgeous! He will drop dead on the spot with a massive hard on Suri!’ my best friend’s squeal rips me out of my thoughts and I smirk sheepishly at her.

‘Well, hopefully not because then I would be charged with murder’ I reply and earn a hard slap on my ass, as well as a fit of giggles. I roll my eyes and pick up my leather bag, as well as my fleece jacket.

‘Wish me luck’ I murmur, feeling nervousness spread through my body. Sera only tsks and pulls a package of condoms out of her sleeves, sliding them into my bag, as well as a small tube with lube. I blush furiously at both and she winks knowingly.

‘You’re about to have sex with them, silly. Not get knocked up and let him pay alimony for the rest of his life!' My blush deepens and protectively I place on hand on the flat of my stomach.

 

‘Sera!’ I exclaim in horror but my best friend only hugs me tightly, pressing a kiss against my ear.

‘Go get him, temptress. Ride him like a horse. Do the horizontal mambo. Bury the weasel. Ride the skin bus to-’  
‘Maker Sera stop! I got it!’ I yell and push her away from me, cheeks a flaming red as I rush through our tiny apartment. The source of my embarrassment drops laughing to the floor, hooting and cheering as I finally slam the door.  

 

Grumbling to myself I hop down the several stairs and adjust the straps of my bag, before sliding on my jacket. Even for a late summer night it is cold outside and I shiver, the idea of wearing such a short attire now less practical than I thought. But for once I am lucky and the tram is on time, it’s sticky warm air welcomed by me. Ignoring the lechery looks of a nearby old man I drop into my seat and pull out the mobile phone. Several more messages and kisses arrived since this morning, although half of them from old men over sixty with very disgusting offers. Sera also showed me how to use the internet on the phone, so I could scroll through the miniature version of the Sugardaddy homepage. To be better prepared I check the profile of cheeselover once more.

He was 32 according to his profile, athletic build and with ginger blonde hair and hazel colored eyes. His skin-type he described as sunkissed and european. What made me pause was his size. 6,4 feet sounded gigantic - at least in comparison to my 5, 1 feet. His job was labeled with “manager”, but this honestly could mean everything. Our chat history contained many emoticons and in the end it turned into a battle of sorts. I found it fun and smile as I scroll through our chat once more, reading what he expected of me for the meeting.

Above all else… discretion. He had emphasized this several times and it makes me curious what kind of guy he is. Cheeselover also wished for a night of fun, whatever that meant. Humming I tuck on the hem of my short dress, suddenly feeling like everyone knows that I am wearing no underwear. A blush creeps up my cheeks and I lock the phone again, doing earplugs in my ears to listen to some music. To pass the time - and calm my nerves. In forty minutes I would finally meet my first… SugarDaddy. I couldn’t wait.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know... there are these funny little things called "leave a comment" and "give a kudo". It would help me greatly to hear your opinion on this story. And even if it is just an "yay, cool!" or an "lol", or a ":-)". 
> 
> We authors take the time to write stories for free. For your enjoyment. So please let us know when you enjoy something. It is a great motivation!  
> I myself leave comments on stories I read and like - and smile everytime when I see how much an author appreciates my feedback. Come on. Do the same. Spread the love. Leave comments everywhere!


	4. Cheeselover 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbetaed. <3

 

 

8:12pm. I sigh and tuck a white blonde strand of hair behind my pointed ear, glancing around once more. So far no one at least slightly resembling ‘Cheeselover’ had entered the lobby. And quite frankly… the longer I wait, the more stupid I feel. What was I thinking, honestly? That a man really pays 200$ just to spent an evening with me? I am not special and no one in this word is that pathetic. Even less a manager like ‘Cheeselover’ pretended to be. This is ridiculous. The only persons in this lobby beside me are men in black tuxedos, looking important and guarding the hotel-complex. Also… with the way these security men look at me… it gives me chills. A dangerous kind of checking me out. As if I am a possible threat. 

Avoiding their gazes I pull out my mobile phone to check for a message from Cheeselover. A note. A reason why he was late. But nothing. An annoyed sneer warps my face in a grimace. Time to go. And delete my profil from this stupid website. I-

  
‘Miss Lavellan?’ A deep male voice says and I drop my phone in shock. It slitters across the marble floor and I follow it’s journey with wide eyes, before glancing up at the man in the black tuxedo before me. He is wearing black sunglasses and is bald, face an unreadable mask as he assesses me critically. 

‘Erm… yes?’ Nervously I evade his intent gaze, feeling more than uneasy now. How does he know my name? 

‘I am tasked to bring you to your meeting’ Tuxedo-man announces next after a few seconds and motions me to rise and follow him.

Dumbfounded I stare up at him, squinting my eyes. Well… this is strange. Slowly I rise and worry my bottom lip between my teeth, before nodding slowly. But first… 

I brush past Tuxedo-man and pick up my phone from the ground, wiping away invisible dirt before sliding it in my bag. Of course there is no dirt. I bet Mr. Theirin whips his servants and makes them lick the floor clean.

 

‘What is going on here?’ I ask in irritation but follow tuxedo-man nonetheless to the elevator, feeling the eyes of the other security men on me. Instead of answering me he lifts one hand up to his ear, where a earphone nearly invisible blinks. His voice is muffled but I think I can hear the words ‘Will bring the girl up now. Tenth floor. No disturbance.’ Although… I am not sure. I feel like a damsel in an action film. 

 

We enter the elevator and my guide pulls out a small card which he slides through a small scanner. The doors slide shut whisper silent and the only thing indicating that the elevator moves at all is the steadily increasing number to my right. 1...2...3… 4… 5… 6… 7... 8…

My guide stands completely still, staring on a spot over my right shoulder. Nervously I fiddle with the hem of my dress, exhaling audibly as the doors finally open. Wow…. rides in an elevator with strangers  are always awkward… but this?

 

Tuxedo-man beckons me anew to follow him, hand again on the small button in his ear. We walk along the long thickly cushioned corridor in silence and I get more and more paranoid. Are these paintings watching me?

‘Miss Lavellan. Please give me your bag’ I am startled by my guide's sudden request and nearly bump into him as he stops in front of an heavily ornamented door. The presidential suite. 

‘My bag? Why?’ I question in confusion and hold onto my bag tighter, a blush creeping up my cheeks. What if he finds the condoms and lube? Or the neglige? Oh I should have never come here. Tuxedo man looks irritated at my hesitation, mouth pulling in a grim line. Our staring match is distracting and so I don’t notice how the door to the suite gets opened. 

 

‘It’s okay Percy. I will take over from here.’ Soft and deep, accent melodic.The scent of an expensive aftershave wafts towards me and as I slowly turn my head, I look into the most beautiful hazel eyes I have ever seen. The man who basically saved me is very tall and as he smiles I can’t help but smile back. Shyly with a fluttering feeling in my belly I let him slide his strong arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. Wow… he smells so great… 

‘I must protest Alistair. This isn’t wise’ tuxedo man objects but my savior already guides me into the suite.

 

‘Well. then it matches with everything else I do, yes?’ he quips and closes the door, letting it click shut. A single beep signals that is locked instantly and I breathe deeply before turning around. 

Now without someone distracting me I am able to look at the man of whom I presume is Cheeselover, taking in his very handsome appearance. The athletic build is clearly an understatement. He looks like he spends at least six hours each week in a gym. Gingerblonde hair short and spiked at the front, a similar colored stubble concealing the hard lines of his jaw. Somehow… he looks familiar. 

As our eyes lock once more I see the uncertainty in his eyes, but also confirmed what I initially thought. 

 

‘Oh my god…’ I mumble and suddenly the room is spinning, hazel eyes widening as he realizes too that I recognize him. At once he is at my side, strong arms slung around my small frame and preventing me from falling. 

‘Hey... hey… please… don’t freak out now okay?’ he pleads, guiding me over to the large living room in the suite. My head is spinning still and I stare up at him, aghast.

Carefully he lowers me on the soft cushioned couch, taking one of my small hands in his larger one and picking up a bottle with water from the table. A table overflowing with snacks like pizza, chips and sandwiches, also different sorts of lemonade, water, wine and beer. Wide-eyed I take it all in then feel the rim of the bottle against my lips, drinking obediently as Cheeselover tilts the bottle up. No...Not cheeselover.

 

‘You’re a Theirin. Alistair Theirin.’ I say in a  croaked voice as he places the bottle back on table, wincing as he hears the name. His hand clasps mine still and he is silent for a few seconds, face turned away from me. My heart beats loudly in my chest, eyes sliding over the living room once more. The overflowing table with snacks and sweets. Several game consoles set up in front of the large Tv, nearl the size of my bedroom door. At least fifty different games piled up next to it… all still plastic-wrapped. 

 

A  strange feeling grows in me. Here is this man… not any man… but Alistair Theirn… booking me for a night of fun. Planning all these things, organizing snacks and drinks. A lump forms in my throat and as I look back, hazel eyes are filled with unshed tears. 

‘Please… please hear me out… You can leave afterwards I swear…’ He starts pleadingly and lifts our clasped hands to his chest, squeezing them. Numbly I nod, taken aback by the look of despair he gives me. Alistair swallows hard and nods to himself, hazel eyes flickering down towards our hands. He is trembling and so I take his other hand, just as he starts to fidget with the hem of his shirt. 

 

‘I won’t leave. Take your time.’ I hear myself say and he nods gratefully, exhaling audibly. 

‘Thank you… And yes you are right. I am Alistair Theirin.’ he says the surname as if it pains him.

‘I am not 32. I am 23… but I guess you know that…’ he mumbles and I nod slowly, irritation fading away bit by bit. 

‘I know that Sugar Daddy’s are supposed to be older. That’s why I lied about my age. But I… look…’ Alistair sighs and finally meets my curious gaze. Another deep breath and he squeezes my hand. 

‘Everyone thinks that being the son of the president is awesome. All the money and benefits. But…’ I can’t help myself and scoot a bit closer, squeezing his hands. A small smile grazes his full lips and for a moment he looks up, then back down at our hands. 

‘I am lonely. Everyone only wants to be my friend because they can profit from it.’ He sounds hurt and I nod slowly. His world is so different from mine… but I think I can emphasize.

 

‘I never had a true friend… or… a girlfriend’ the last words is spoken rushed and I blink first in confusion, then understanding. 

‘You’re a…?’ I can’t say the word and his head snaps up, blushing furiously till the the ip of his slightly pointed ears. 

‘What! Oh…. Oh nooo. Noo I am not’ Alistair quickly reassures and turns to face me fully. 

‘I know how to… have sex. And kiss. My brother Cailan made sure of that’ I grow pale at this information and his eyes widen in horror as he realizes how this sounds.

 

‘Ohhh for the love of… not like this! I would never! He is my brother! He paid a prostitutie.’ Alistair stammers and we both blush furiously now, hands clasped together still. Somehow… he is adorable with all his stumbling. And I can’t help but feel sorry for him. For a few minutes either of us speaks. The thought that his first time had been with a woman who was paid… it makes me feel sad. No one’s first time should be like this.And no one should live without a friend. Sera annoys me a great deal, but I wouldn’t want to miss her. 

 

Our hands are still interlaced and I finally breathe deeply.

‘So… that’s what you meant with… a evening of fun. You wanted me to… pretend I am your friend?’ I ask gently and Alistair gnaws on his bottom lip, looking at me from under ginger blonde eyelashes. 

‘Not exactly… I want… you’re so beautiful…’ he mumbles and swallows hard, before lifting one hand up to cup my cheek. I blush but lean into his touch nonetheless, a action that makes him smile.

 

‘I know it’s not the same… but I want to..’ he sighs.

‘Can you pretend to be my girlfriend? Because… I want to see you again. Regularly. We don’t need to have sex… just… I want to feel normal.’ I blink speechless at his request and he grimaces, dropping his hand.

‘I will pay you for it. More than average.’ he adds and fiddles again with the hem of his shirt.

‘Can you do this? I don’t wan’t to be alone anymore…’ Alistair looks up then, hazel eyes gleaming with hope and sadness.

‘Please?’

 

 

 


End file.
